


Can't wash my hands clean.

by Btryx



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Doctor Whump, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Post-Time War, Romance, Time War Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 08:44:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15239667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Btryx/pseuds/Btryx
Summary: The Doctor has a nightmare about the Time War. Rose is there for him, like always.





	Can't wash my hands clean.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Doctor Who fans! :) This is my first fanfic in this fandom. I've only been writing for weeks, so I'm not an experienced author at all, and for that you'll have to forgive me. I always wanted to write something like this though, because I really adore Doctor/Rose so I hope you'll like it. 
> 
> English is not my first language, if something feels off it's my fault sorry.

The Doctor wakes up panting and dripping from sweat. All he sees is blood. It's on his hands, covering them, coloring them bright red. He can't breathe. He closes his eyes. He doesn't want to look at the blood. Instead he sees faces. Many, many faces, some of them stranger, lots of them familiar. They're all dead. He forces his eyes open, because seeing them is worse than anything he can imagine. He tries to take a deep breath, but it's stuck in his throat, and he can't help letting out a broken sob. He stumbles as his bare feet hits the floor. He has to get to the bathroom. He has to wash of the blood, get clean. He has to get clean, he want to be clean. He suddenly remembers his dream.

Blood. Fire. Misery. Loss. Death.  
It's feels like he's burning inside.

He stumbles to the bathroom, quickly closing the door behind him. The tap is dripping. He opens it more, and puts his hands under a flow of freezing cold water.  
He tries to wash the blood away, but it wouldn't come off. It wouldn't come off, he wants it clean, he just wants to be clean.

He starts rubbing his hands harder, more desperate, but it still doesn't work. It doesn't hurt, it's not his own blood. That would be better, he thinks. He can barely feel he wetness on his face, can hardly hear the shallow breaths he makes. He just can't breathe. For a second he thinks he might be drowning.

He can't keep his eyes open anymore, and the dead faces flood his sight, ones more, his mind desperately trying to distinguish the memories from reality. Then he hears something. Something, that's real, he knows it. It has to be real.

"Doctor?"

He knows that voice. It's young and beautiful and right now it contains much more worry and fear than usually.

His eyes are still closed, and his hands are in the sink, but they're still covered in blood. Suddenly he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder, then another one on his back. It's Rose.

"Doctor? What's wrong? What happened?" She sounds so hesitant and she holds him a little tighter. "You're trembling. It's okay, calm down" she says softly. He feels the fog in his head clear a little.

"Rose." He breathes in a broken voice. "Rose... it wouldn't come off! I.. I'm trying to wash them, b-but it's not working!" He says shakingly, and suddenly the weight inside him feels unbearable. Fresh tears escape his eyes, and he chokes on his words.

"Hey, hey it's okay. Just breathe. What's wrong with your hands?"

_What is she talking about? Can't she see it?_

"The blood! There's so much blood, it's everywhere and I can't wash it away!" They're here again. The faces. Why can't they just leave him alone?

The water stops and he feels himself being pulled away from the bathroom sink. Rose's arms are around him now, holding him tight, and her hands are holding his, in a comforting, but steady grip. They're both sitting on the floor, and he feels his hands shaking in hers. He goes limp in her arms, suddenly feeling exausted. She doesn't let go though.

"It's alright. You're safe. There's nothing there. It was just a dream okay? It's over. I promise it's over. I'm here." She murmures, keeping a firm grip on him. "I'm here, you're here, in the TARDIS and this is real."

He nods in her shoulder silently, and Rose holds him close, so close that he can hear the beating of her single human heart. Somehow it calms him.

 

He feels so bloody vulnerable, but he can't seem to be able to let her go. He doesn't know what she's doing here, or how did she hear him, but he's glad he's not alone, because he needs this so much.

He needs her.

He's calming down. His hearts are still beating like crazy, but the faces are finally fading.

He remembers now, they fell asleep together in her bedroom, after a particularly adventurous day. That's why she heard him. They've been doing that for some time now, after tough days, when neither of them wanted to be alone. It was a completely innocent act, but the Doctor loves it. He loves that neither of them are bothering to acknowledge personal space. He loves the comforting presence of her, he loves how close they are, that they can fall asleep in each others arms. He doesn't know how long it will last, and he doesn't want to think about it.

And now she's here. Comforting him when he doesn't deserves comfort.

"Just breathe. It's okay, you're hands aren't bloody, they're clean. I promise. I've got you." Rose says gently.

She's wrong, he thinks. His hands aren't clean. They haven't been clean for centuries.

"I-I'm sorry. So sorry." He whispers. It's so quiet, he's not even sure she heard it.

She did. Her arms tighten around him, protectively.

"Listen to me. You have nothing to apologise for, okay? Absolutely nothing."

"Okay." It comes out much weaker than he means it.

He leans back slightly, to look at her face.  
She's looking at him, with wide eyes, concern visible on her face, and suddenly the Doctor feels guilty for waking her.

All because of that stupid nightmare.

Rose seems to read his thoughts, because she puts a hand on his cheek, and pulls their forehead together.

"Hey. What did I just say? Don't be sorry. It's okay. I'm here because I want to be here. You don't have to feel guilty about it."  
Her voice is so soft, so understanding, and it makes his hearts bursting with love for her.

"You shouldn't do this. Waking up in the middle of the night just to babysit me. I can manage." He says unconvincingly.

He feels her frown slightly, and he opens his eyes to look at her. Rose's eyes are full of sadness, and something else, something he can't quite identify.

"You don't have to do this you know." She says quietly, staring deep into his eyes. "You don't have to be okay. After what you've been through... I can't even imagine how hard it must be for you. I really can't. But maybe, if you let me I can help. I'm not babysitting you, I'm trying to help my... my best friend. Because I care about you. Very much."

He stares at her, eyes wide with wonder, because how can this beautiful, young, pure human know so much about him, and still care?

He hugs her tightly, burying his face into her shoulder, and she responds instantly, like it's a reflex.

"You make me so much better Rose Tyler."  
He whispers into her ear.

She pulls him even closer, and they're just sitting there, for what it feels like an eternity.

After god knows how much time he pulls away again to look at her face. It's full of concern and worry and love ( _love?_ ) , and he feels safe.

"Thank you." He says. He sees her relax, and her lips curle into a gentle smile.

"Anytime, Doctor."

His hands feel clean.

**Author's Note:**

> This is it :) Let me know what you think in the comments. I handle criticism well too as long as it's constuctive. Thank you for reading :)


End file.
